John Overbecks laughed, but made no comment.
I went on. ‘The years passed, the English lost more and more of their French possessions, until their presence was no longer a threat to the many deserters they’d left behind. Some of them, including the hero of our story, became homesick and wanted to return to their native land. But it wouldn’t do to return with a foreign wife and children: people might ask awkward questions and guess what had really happened. So, one day, our Englishman just disappeared. He made his way to the coast and found a ship to take him across the Channel and then went home to Bristol, with the story that he’d been soldiering all this while in France. His father was a prosperous baker with a thriving business to pass on to his son. Also, during the young man’s absence, he had bought up various properties in the city. .’
John Overbecks interrupted me. ‘Why didn’t our hero’s wife follow her errant husband, eh? Answer me that.’
‘I imagine because she couldn’t afford to. She was left in poverty to bring up her child or children. She most certainly had at least one son, who, I guess, grew up to hate the father who’d deserted him. Incidentally, this son looked very like his father: stocky, similar colouring of hair and eyes. Later on, he saw a way of getting back at the parent he so despised. He entered the service of Henry Tudor, willing to do anything that might disrupt the security and stability of England.
‘Meanwhile, the older man had carved out a new life for himself in his native town. On his father’s death, he had inherited the business and the properties, the latter all let out at very good rents. Of course, he’d never married, in spite of the snares laid for him by the scheming Bristol women. He couldn’t: it would have been bigamous. And, besides, he was quite happy as he was. He’d probably had enough of domestic responsibilities. Until, one day, a young woman and her even younger sister turned up in the city, seeking refuge from the vengeance of their Exmoor community. Our hero gave the older sister employment as a huckster — and fell headlong in love with the younger, something he hadn’t foreseen.’
John Overbecks straightened his back. ‘All right, Chapman,’ he said, ‘you can stop playing games now. All that you’ve said so far is fairly close to the mark. Yes, I deserted. Yes, I married a Breton girl — although, in my own defence, I have to say that she tricked me into marriage by pretending to be pregnant when she wasn’t. The birth of our son, Jean, came later. Much later. He was our only child. Her father was a pig farmer and I was expected to run the holding and do all the heavy, dirty work as the price of their silence for sheltering me. But I soon grew tired of poverty and heavy labouring, especially when I knew what sort of life I could be living in Bristol. As soon as it was safe for me to do so, I did just as you said. I left them, knowing they couldn’t possibly follow me, and came home. I had no intention of ever marrying again. As you pointed out, I couldn’t without committing bigamy. But then Jane came into my life and I knew from the very first moment I saw her that I wanted her more desperately than anything I’d ever wanted in my whole existence. I loved her — I still love her — with a passion even I find it hard to understand. And when, eventually, Marion told me that she wished to enter the house of the Magdalen nuns and asked me if I would be willing to marry Jane, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. However, I told Marion the truth. Her answer was that if no one knew of my previous marriage, and was never likely to know, what did it matter? In the world’s eyes, Jane would be my wife. That was when I began to realize just how ruthless a woman Marion was when it came to pursuing her own ends. What attracted her to the holy life, I’ve no idea, except that she likes power and probably plans to become Mother Superior at some time in the future. She didn’t want to remain a huckster and a nobody for the rest of her days.’
‘And all would have been well,’ I continued as his voice ebbed into silence, ‘if your son hadn’t turned up in Bristol?’
John Overbecks nodded. ‘I didn’t recognize him, when he was staring at us across the street. I thought, as you did, that he was looking at you. But, later in the afternoon, Walter Godsmark came across to say that Jasper wanted to see me’ — that, then, was where Walter had been going when I saw him, not home, as I had fondly imagined — ‘and would I pay him a visit that evening. I guessed it to be something to do with the fact that I was proposing to put up his rent, and agreed quite cheerfully. I’d prepared all my arguments and he didn’t frighten me. Never had.’
‘But it wasn’t about his rent.’
John Overbecks gave a twisted smile. ‘Not directly, although he was proposing that he should, from then on, occupy the premises rent free. And not merely rent free, but that I should pay him to live there. Blackmail, in other words. He informed me that the young man I had seen with him that day was not merely my son, but also a Tudor agent, who had spilled out his history to Jasper as soon as Jasper had confirmed my identity. (It makes one wonder about poor Jean’s discretion as a spy, but there you are!) Moreover, my son was coming back to confront me as soon as he had finished his work in the surrounding countryside. I enquired when that would be. Wednesday, Jasper told me, so I had nearly two days to consider his proposition. If I agreed, and I’d be a fool not to, he would dispose of Jean for me on his return to the city. To my credit, I tried reasoning with him. I pointed out that now Jasper had admitted to being a Lancastrian supporter himself, I would keep quiet about that, if he would say nothing of what my son had told him and leave Jean to me. But Jasper refused. He said there was nothing to connect him to Henry Tudor, neither of us being aware that Jean’s presence in Bristol was suspected by the authorities and that counter-spies had already arrived in the city. So, I was faced with a stark choice. Either I became one of Jasper’s victims for the rest of my life, or I would be put in prison and Jane would be taken away from me for ever.’
‘But you decided there was a third choice. And took it.’
He laughed. ‘I don’t think I even paused to consider it as a choice or otherwise. It was just instinctive. Jasper had been eating his supper when I arrived. The knife was lying on the table. I had despatched so many enemy watchmen and sentries in my year as a soldier that the deed was done before I was even aware of thinking seriously about it. I picked up the knife, stepped up behind him and the next thing I knew, he had crashed face down on the table. I went home and awaited developments.’
‘And the following morning,’ I cut in, ‘you came across to make sure that Richard Manifold entertained no suspicions about you. Later, you went up to the nunnery to tell your sister-in-law what had happened. When I saw you in the Green Lattis, you informed me that one of your hucksters was ill and that you had taken the bread to the convent yourself, out of the goodness of your heart. But the huckster was Ethelreda, and you later informed me that she had never had a day’s illness in her life.’
John Overbecks hunched his shoulders as though they were aching.